Being There
by keyascribe
Summary: Hijikata never thought he'd wish for more noise. Not really angst.


**Disclaimer**: No part of Peacemaker Kurogane belongs to me, nor do the original characters upon which it is based, who were just as cool but didn't have such good hair.

**Warnings: **A wee bit of bad language from Hijikata.

**A/N: **Ah, the fluff! Apparently Ricola was sold in old Edo. . . . .

Being There

There were many things Hijikata Toshizou disliked, and irony was one of them. So there were more reasons than one for him to hate the fact that, as he tried to read the afternoon reports in front of him, it was, for the first time ever, too _quiet_ for him to concentrate.

Certainly he was irked by raucous laughter, squealing piglets (and pages) and most of all that lilting call of _Hijikata-saaan_, that meant his plans for the rest of the day had just been annihilated in the cause of candy. Of _course _he complained about that. Constantly. Vehemently. Without it ever making the slightest bit of difference.

Life in the Shinsengumi was noisy, plain and simple . . . but it was noise he had unavoidably become used to. Quiet he had not. For days now laughter in the temple had been carefully muted, Saizo had refused to leave Okita's room – so had Ichimura Tetsunosuke, practically – and as for that lilting voice itself . . . .

Quiet left too many spaces for thoughts to creep in.

It was less than one week after the glorious triumph of the Ikedaya Incident, and Vice-Commander Hijikata Toshizou sat in silence so complete he could feel his thoughts reverberating through his skull. But mostly, in that quiet, he unconsciously strained for the sound of coughing. Which was ridiculous, these rooms were hardly that badly sound-proofed and Souji claimed to be feeling better already, so there was _no _reason for him to be feeling more tense instead of less now that the latest Choshu plot had been disrupted.

Yes, he hated irony.

He visited Souji, of course, but he didn't like it. Thesedays there was always someone already in the room, chatting with the wan captain or quietly bustling around to cut up an orange to combat the summer heat or fix soothing tea. Someone who looked up with a knowing look as the demon vice-commander appeared.

It made him feeling strangely vulnerable, the – approval – in their eyes. Because while it was one thing to allow Souji to stop by at all times of the day and night, it was quite another for Hijikata himself to seek him out. Souji had never needed to be sought out; he had always known when he was needed, popping up in Kondo-san's office just in time to point out a winning move for Go, slipping into the dojo at the exact moment to distract Harada from doing something even more stupid than usual, and just being generally _there. _

Granted his being there was usually annoying, distracting and bothersome, but somehow his not being there was even more so. Which was why far too many times for his dignity's sake Hijikata was getting up from his low table covered in paperwork and stomping to the first captain's room to make sure that there really was no more coughing.

And someone would always be there to make a note of it.

Kondo-san would beam and say "Ohhh, Toshi, we were just talking about you", Yamanami would smile as if he had been worried Hijikata wouldn't bother to come; the Comedians would be in the middle of something stupid and freeze for a second to make sure he would allow them to continue, which he would as long as it wasn't too obnoxious. The damn pig would snort at him in a "what kept you?" manner and the damn page would tell him to be quiet because Okita-san was sleeping now and the damn page's brother would quietly make tea because he was better at it than the actual page.

But they all seemed . . . pleased . . . when Hijikata arrived and that was both unprecedented and even a bit disconcerting. It was as if whenever he stepped into Souji's room he entered an alternate universe where Hijikata was a softie and Souji was barely there at all. Souji smiled tiredly, though, even in his sleep, when Hijkata walked in with a scowl and sat down next to the futon; and that was enough to make Hijikata know he would be back.

After a day or two, Hijikata started coming to Souji's rooms at odd times, early in the morning – curse the morning – and late at night. Usually Souji was asleep, but so was everyone else so at least it was quiet. He would watch Souji doze and think about the events to come and wish he could smoke his pipe; and when Souji woke and smiled he would gruffly fix tea and slip medicine into both cups so what he was doing wouldn't look quite so obvious.

"It's bitter," Souji protested on the morning of the third or fourth day, and Hijikata felt something suspiciously like relief trickle through him, because up until now the captain had meekly taken anything that was given him, too exhausted to complain.

"It's good for you," he said briskly. "If you don't like it you shouldn't let yourself get stomped on by psycho rebels."

"Mmmm," Souji mumbled, but still frowned at the cup. "Isn't there a such thing as healthy candy?"

Hijikata rolled his eyes at the hopeful question. "Like I have time to go searching the country for health-promoting sweets."

Souji looked at him thoughtfully, eyes still dark with sickness, face still pale. "Hijikata-san has a lot to do," he murmured.

Hijikata snorted. "Che, when has that stopped anyone before. I'm fine, Souji. Worry about yourself for once and drink the damn tea."

Making a face, Souji obediently downed the rest of the drink, but his expression remained thoughtful.

That night, after a day of reports, reminders and _more_ reports, Hijikata pocketed the bag of drops that were the closest thing to sweet-tasting _and_ healthy that he had found in town, and pushed open the paper doors of Okita's room. And stopped still, something twisting painfully in his chest.

Like a ghost in twilight, Souji sat partially up in his futon, surrounded by lights.

He knew what they were, knew they were no relation to the glows of the dead come to escort the dying away. Still, it was only the returning color in Souji's face that allowed Hijikata to suppress the shudder created by seeing Okita's white-clad form in the midst of the eerie flickering green blurs. None of us are dead yet, he reminded himself. Not even close.

He frowned. "Why are there fireflies in here?"

Souji tilted his head and smiled softly at him. "Saizo broke part of the screen door," he admitted, "running after Tetsu-kun this morning."

Hijikata's frown deepened. Souji was supposed to be recuperating, not being swamped with insects. The last thing he needed was to have his sleep disturbed by pigs, pages _and _bugs.

"Idiot," he said sharply. "You'll be eaten alive if you stay here. You're moving into my room until that's fixed."

"Okay, Hijikata-san," Souji agreed cheerfully.

"I'm sure someone will have time to mend it in a day or two."

"Hai."

"Although we're busy. Got better things to do. I'll get Ichimura to do it. Some time."

"Hai."

"Not that he can mend things. He'll probably just break it further."

"Hai, that's probably true," Souji agreed.

Hijikata shot the captain a suspicious look, but Okita just looked innocent and still tired.

"Anyway, can't have you here," he muttered. "I'll get the bedding. Can you walk?"

"Hai!"

Because Souji, after all, always knew when he was needed.


End file.
